


A Snowball's Chance

by crisiskris



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Jealous Albus, Jealous Snape, M/M, Skiing with vampires, good looking dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:37:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14014365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisiskris/pseuds/crisiskris
Summary: Albus leaves Severus alone in a bar, but can he handle the results?





	A Snowball's Chance

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Albus Dumbledore/Severus Snape Buggering Bee, part of the Snapledore Carnal Carnival. It was written for the Gift Round Challenge: Albus ignores/neglects Severus, and has to deal with the consequences.

“You’re not really quitting after one little fall, are you?” Albus watched Severus throw down his skis and stomp away, his movements a little awkward in the rigid ski boots. The effect was ruined considerably by the fact that his delicious arse was covered in snow. Albus picked the wrong time to smile amusedly at his lover; Severus had just looked back, and now he was glaring hard enough to kill.

“When you’ve quite finished laughing at my discomfort, Albus,” the Potions master hissed, “I’ll be inside – drying off.” He threw a pointed look at the offensive skis and disappeared into the chalet.

Albus sighed. He supposed, if he thought about it, it hadn’t really been that good of an idea, bringing Severus to a ski resort. It was Christmas, and the couple was in desperate need of a vacation. Between Harry Potter and his friends, and Voldemort and *his* friends, both Albus and Severus had been under a considerable amount of stress, made worse by the pressures from the Ministry of Magic and by the fact that during the school year they had to be discreet about their relationship. When Albus had overheard two muggle born students talking about skiing, he’d thought it sounded like the perfect romantic getaway. 

And it was… beautiful sights, exquisite meals. Severus had been enchanted by the chalet, with its wood and stone and the ornate fireplace inside the spacious lounge. Albus, however, couldn’t resist trying out skis, just once. Severus had waved him away one afternoon, his pointy nose buried in a book. Grinning like a school boy, Albus had tromped off to something called a ‘bunny hill’ to learn to ski. He’d loved it. It was exhilarating, flying over the snow like that, the wind rustling in his ears, whipping his beard about. He felt young again.

Excitedly, he’d dragged poor Severus up to the bunny hill and begged him to learn as well. Of course the younger man had acquiesced; he always did. Thinking back on it now, Albus had to smother a laugh. Severus had looked like a newborn deer when he got the skis on; his legs were pointed the wrong direction and he could barely stay up. Still, he was nothing if not persistent, and he pushed his way clumsily over to the tow rope, grasping it tightly in one gloved hand and letting it haul him up the side of the hill. At the top, he’d let go of the rope, and promptly fallen over, landing flat on his butt in the middle of the lift. Two more beginner skiers had crashed into him before he’d been able to get out of the way.

The hill wasn’t very large or very steep, but it took Severus several minutes to get down. He’d fallen two more times, once on his side, and once managing to get his skis caught in the snow somehow, which sent him somersaulting into the air. A few of the braver souls on the hill had clapped sarcastically when he skidded to a stop. And that had been then end of that. 

Now Albus watched his lover disappear through the lodge doors, feeling torn. He knew Severus was upset and wanted comforting, but at the same time, he was frustrated. Why couldn’t the younger man just enjoy something *he* liked to do for once? Albus had never experienced anything like skiing; he wasn’t ready to call it a day and come inside. And just because Severus wanted to pout, it didn’t mean it should wreck Albus’s day, should it? He made a decision. “I’m just going to do a few more runs,” he called to the other man, picking up his ski poles. Severus made a noncommittal noise and vanished as the doors swung shut behind him. Albus shrugged. He could tell Severus was a bit mad, but he really wanted to get a bit more skiing done before it got dark. Besides, he could always make it up to Severus later. With a quick shove, he pushed off towards the chair lift.

+++

The air was warm and the sun was bright, and Albus was beside himself with joy, delighting in the wind and snow and speed. He hadn’t even realized that time was flying by, and it was only when he pulled up to the chair lift that he realized that it must be late. “Chair’s closed,” the attendant called out.

“Closed for how long?” Albus asked, thinking he might ski down to the t-bar until it reopened. 

The attendant laughed. “Closed for the day, my friend,” he replied good-naturedly. Albus had been through so many times that all the attendants knew about his new-found love of skiing. “Lifts close at 4pm.”

“Goodness, is it that late already?” Albus turned himself around and pushed off toward the lodge. It had been hours since Severus had stormed away. Albus felt a little prick of worry in his heart; he hadn’t meant to leave his lover for that long. Guiltily, he pulled up to the chalet and took his skis off, leaning them against the ski rests with his poles. This was supposed to be *their* vacation, after all – and Severus wasn’t a forgiving man. He rushed inside.

The first place he looked was in their room, which was just down the hall from the main entrance. He thought perhaps Severus might be sulking away in private, withdrawing as he often did when hurt or upset. When he opened the door and found that Severus wasn’t, in fact, hiding away, Albus felt a little relieved – if he was still in public, Severus couldn’t be that angry with him. Perhaps he found someone to talk to, or another way to occupy his time?

Albus wandered down the hall toward the lounge with the big fireplace. Severus would never admit it, but he loved sitting in front of fireplaces. The Potions Master often denied himself such pleasures at Hogwarts, even to the point of living in the cold, dank dungeons, but he was actually often cold. Albus opened the door to the lounge, picturing Severus lounging by the fire with a book in his hand.

Indeed, he was. However, he wasn’t reading the book, merely holding it. This was because his attention was directed elsewhere – toward a stunning Norse God who was engaging him in conversation. Albus blinked, thinking that it was odd that a God would be conversing with Severus. Then his brain clicked on again and he realized that the man talking to his lover wasn’t really a God, he just looked like one. He was tall, blonde, and blue eyed, with tanned skin and perfectly white teeth shining through his laughing smile. His hands were large and well groomed, his clothes were immaculate, and they revealed just enough of the perfect chest and strong arms beneath him. His nose was neither too big nor too small. And he couldn’t have been a day over 35. The man’s beauty was breathtaking. 

Albus paused just inside the door, unnoticed by anyone including his lover, and turned his eyes toward Severus. The dark man was speaking rapidly to the stranger, who was nodding in fervent agreement. As Albus watched, Severus finished up his story and the stranger broke into laughter, adding a few comments of his own. Severus *laughed*. He opened up his mouth and *laughed*, his rich voice mingling with the tenor of the other man. Albus felt a little stir of jealousy lodge in his gut. He drew himself up to his full height and was about to go interrupt, casually and politely, when Severus said something else. The man responded in a more serious tone, and, as he was speaking, he laid his hand on Severus’s arm. He laid his hand on Severus’s arm!

The little ball of jealousy became a flame, threatening to come pouring out his mouth like the venom of the vilest snake imaginable. It took every ounce of self-restraint that Albus had not to shout out, ‘that’s *my* arm!’ He took a deep breath, released it, and took another. This was ridiculous. Of course Severus meant no harm, and after the way Albus had neglected him, he couldn’t be faulted for finding company, now could he? Albus trusted his lover implicitly. He owed it to the other man not to jump to conclusions.

Slipping over to the bar, he decided that he needed to calm down before he went over to greet his lover; Severus was very sensitive and would pick up on his emotions. He ordered a glass of wine to help him focus, but couldn’t help but let his wander back to the two men. Severus was laughing again. Albus couldn’t remember the last time he saw the other man laugh. Severus never laughed for him. And he looked so relaxed, the tension eased out of his long limbs, and without that perpetual frown he looked ten years younger. It was no wonder that he’d attracted the attention of such a handsome man – in fact, as Albus scanned the room, he realized that several people were staring at his lover, men and women alike. Of course, several were also staring at the perfect blond. 

“Handsome couple, eh?” said a voice at his ear. Albus looked up to see the bartender looking at him. “There were lots of disappointed ladies when those two hooked up. Lots of disappointed men, too, though they’ll be less likely to admit it.”

“How long have they been here?” Albus asked, despite himself. The bartender shrugged.

“Oh, three or four hours at least. The dark one came stomping in early this morning, sat down with a terrible expression on his face. After a while all the anger melted away and he just looked miserable. Misty, that’s the waitress, she said he looked a little lost, so she asked him if she could bring him anything. He ordered one glass of wine – same wine as your drinking, ain’t that funny.” Albus glanced down at his glass. It was something they had in common. Albus had been promising Severus that they would travel to Italy on a wine-tasting tour, just as soon as he had the time to do so. He’d been promising it for the last few years. Guilt pricked at his conscience once again, and he picked up his glass, ready to make his way over to the table and beg his lover’s forgiveness. Then the bartender spoke up again.

“Blond fellow walked in about half an hour later. Saw the dark one in the corner and made a bee-line for him. Everyone in the room wanted to do it; he was the only one what was brave enough to. Sat himself right down and stuck out his hand. Dark one seemed a bit cool at first, like he didn’t want company, but come on. Company like that? Hard for anyone to resist.” Albus’s hand stayed on his cup.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his voice a little tremulous. 

The bartender shrugged. “Take a look for yourself,” he replied. “They’re obviously quite smitten.” Albus took a good look. The two men were smiling at each other, talking quietly. The blond’s hand was still on Severus’s arm, and he had moved his chair closer. Their knees were almost touching. Severus hated having his space invaded. He hated being touched. 

This time Albus felt a new feeling. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t jealousy. It was dread. It had finally happened – the thing that Albus secretly feared, the thing he never told Severus because the younger man would dismiss it too casually, the thing that he knew, in his heart of hearts, had to eventually happen: Severus had found someone else. Someone younger. Someone as beautiful as Severus was. Albus looked at his own hands, wrinkled and crooked from arthritis. He thought about his big nose and the blue veins that crisscrossed his body like railway tracks. He regarded his flabby arms and saggy stomach, touched his hand to the top of his head to feel the wiry, messy white hair. He tugged on his scraggly beard. Albus was not beautiful. He was an old man. 

When Severus had first come to him, desperately in need of comfort and love, hurting and terrified in his new role as spy for the Order, Albus’s heart had been captured. The combination of frailty and strength that Severus had shown him was endearing, and he’d been captivated by the younger man. Quite despite himself, he found himself flirting with the boy, trying to bring him out of his shell, wanting to touch him and make him realize how beautiful he was. 

One night, Severus had responded, hungrily, needy for the attention and the love. The Potions master had given himself up to Albus, falling to his knees before Albus’s open robes to worship his cock, begging Albus to let him please him. Albus had pulled him to his feet, kissing him hard as he undressed Severus like he was unwrapping a present. He’d pushed the man back against the bed and entered him, Severus writhing underneath him like the little snake he was, begging for it, whispering, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” over and over again until both of them had come. They’d been together ever since, for nearly a decade.

Albus gave all the love he had to Severus in those first years, and the young man had never been loved before; he was grateful for it. But as he grew older, Albus watched as Severus slowly began to forgive and respect himself. Albus was sure that there would be a time when the clumsy lovemaking of a doddering old fool wouldn’t be enough; Severus would one day realize he was worth much more than Albus could give him. Now, it appeared, that day had come. He sighed heavily, his heart caught in his throat, feeling tears start in his eyes. It was time to slink back to his room, pack his little bag, and disappear so that Severus could get on with his life. 

“Albus?” a voice interrupted his thoughts. “What are you doing sitting at the bar? Didn’t you see me by the fire? I’ve been waiting for you for hours.” Albus looked up and met his lover’s – his *ex* lover’s, he corrected himself sternly – eyes. Severus was looking at him with one eyebrow raised, the way he did when Albus was acting inexplicably odd. He held two glasses of spirits in his hand, having obviously gone to the bar to order fresh drinks for himself and his companion. “Albus, is everything all right?” 

Albus took a good look at the man before him. Severus’s brow was wrinkled in worry, and he was frowning. There was tension in his back and in his hands. ‘You see,’ he thought miserably, ‘I only make the lad tense and upset. He deserves someone who can make him laugh.’ He smiled, trying to be as natural as possible. “Yes, yes of course,” he replied with too much brightness. “Everything’s fine. I’ve just been worrying about how things are getting along at Hogwarts. I thought I might leave early.” 

Severus nodded. “Of course,” he replied. “I’ll pack my things at once.” 

Albus smiled sadly. He’d forgotten how loyal Severus was. It was going to take a bit more pushing to get the younger man to see what was best for him – best for them both, really. “No, no, Severus. I must insist, you stay here and finish your vacation. You seem to be having a lovely time with – well, that gentleman you were talking to. I don’t know his name.” 

Severus’s eyes narrowed, and Albus realized his tone had been a little more bitter than he’d intended. He smiled again, but Severus ignored it. “His name is Brutus. He’s a muggle, Albus, albeit a very smart one. He works as something called a chemical engineer. We’ve been discussing potions – er, chemistry.”

“Yes, I can see that.” 

Severus recoiled at the tone. “I assure you, Headmaster,” he replied formally, the way he did when he was very angry, “There is nothing untoward going on between us.” 

“I’m sure,” Albus replied, unconsciously matching the tone. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some packing to do. I’m sure I’m needed back at Hogwarts, since I’m not needed here.” He looked pointedly at the blond man, who was idly examining a painting on the wall, waiting for Severus to return. 

“You can’t be serious.” Severus crossed his arms and stared at his lover. When it became apparent that Albus wasn’t going to respond, he drew himself up to his full height, his face a stony mask. “Fine, then. Good night, Headmaster,” he replied, then turned away. Albus watched him visibly collect himself before returning to his table. Brutus the Norse God said something and Severus smiled, but it was muted, and he didn’t laugh. Concerned, Brutus the Beautiful leaned over and touched the man’s arm again, obviously asking if everything was all right. Severus said something and Brutus nodded sympathetically. Obviously, Brutus the Perfect was also Perfectly Sensitive. Obviously, Albus wasn’t needed here anymore. He turned on a heavy heel to go. It really was for the best, he told himself, despite the fact that his heart was crying out. It had to happen sometime. 

+++

Severus tried to keep his end of the conversation up after he walked away from the bar, but it was no use. Every fiber of his being wanted to run after Albus, to beg and plead with him not to be angry, to make everything all right – but his pride wouldn’t let him. His pride… if he was totally honest, it was his self-esteem. His self-esteem told him that he’d done nothing wrong. He’d been waiting for Albus for hours, wishing that the older man would appear, feeling hurt that he’d been dragged away from his home for a ‘private vacation’ that had turned out to be downright solitary. When Brutus had sat down and introduced himself, he’d been cautious, at first trying to make excuses for not wanting the company. Brutus had assured him he wanted nothing more than to enjoy the fire and have some one to talk to, and Severus couldn’t technically stop him from taking any seat he wanted. Besides, *he* didn’t want to give up his coveted spot by the fire either.

Of course they’d started chatting, soon finding out they had similar professional interests. There was little beyond that, seeing as how Brutus was Norwegian, loved sports, and a muggle. But this chemical engineering business sounded like fascinating stuff, and before he’d realized it, they were deep into a technical discussion, the likes of which Severus had missed sorely now that he was unable to travel freely from country to country to attend conferences – never knew when Voldemort would be calling, after all. 

He supposed, if he was completely honest, that there was some flirtation going on, but it was mild, and he’d been quite clear from the start that he was happily involved with someone. Now Brutus was eyeing him sympathetically. “He is your man?” he asked. Severus sighed before nodding in reply. Brutus echoed the movement. “I didn’t imagine him to be quite so… old.”

“He is quite fit,” Severus replied with a small smile. “I expect he shall outlive me.” He looked at the fire, brooding. “He is probably the strongest man I know.” Severus was speaking more to himself than to his companion, completely forgetting who he sat beside. As a result, he was quite startled when Brutus put his hand on his knee. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

Brutus smiled placatingly. “He is just some silly old man,” he replied. “He has no right to put a claim on you.” He leaned in closer, bending his head to whisper in Severus’s ear. “Perhaps you should give him a reason to feel jealous, hmmm?” The hand slid up to his thigh.

Severus drew back, startled. He cleared his throat. “I – I think I’ve had too much wine. I believe I shall retire.” He stood quickly, gathering his books. 

Brutus nodded, raising his glass to the dark man. “I shall anticipate your company in the morning, then,” he replied, toasting. 

“Indeed.” Unsettled, Severus turned on his heel and walked quickly out of the room. Once he’d made it away from the people, he sagged against the stone wall, feeling shaky. No one had touched him that intimately since he and Albus had come together. And before that… well, before that, the touches hadn’t been intimate. He sighed. What he wanted more than anything was to go to his room, sweep Albus into an embrace and let his lover kiss away all the dark thoughts that were suddenly threatening to take him over. But Albus had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t wanted, and there was no place else to go. He paused for a moment to stare out the window, watching the snowflakes swirling down some lazy and disjointed, others seemingly intent on hitting the earth. Well, there was always the abysmal weather to keep him company, he decided. Maybe a walk would do him good. 

+++

Albus had packed everything he’d brought with him, as well as straightening and reorganizing everything Severus had brought, within a matter of twenty or so minutes. Then he unpacked it all, refolded all his muggle clothes, and repacked. Then he took everything out of his suitcase and repacked it so all the books were on the top. He looked up at the clock. It had been one hour since he’d flounced out of the lounge like a jealous queen. 

Something stabbed at his heart – although he’d made a big show of getting ready to leave, he’d honestly thought that Severus would come after him. Usually, the thought of Albus being even slightly perturbed with the Potions master would send Severus running to make everything better. Albus was acutely aware of the fact that there was no good reason why Severus should come to him, seeing as how he was currently enjoying the company of Brutus the Bronzed Orgasm on Legs, and seeing as how Albus had been the one to storm away in a snit. Still, he’d expected Severus to come running. And then, if he consulted his heart of hearts, he would have apologized profusely, after which Severus would immediately forgive him, and then they’d make love and go for a walk under the moon and everything would be better again. 

He paced up and down the room, feeling torn. On the one had, Albus couldn’t shake the fear that this was truly the end – that Severus had found someone brighter and better to move on to. However, Severus’s shocked reaction told him otherwise – and besides, Severus would never pursue something serious with a muggle! But then, Severus wasn’t in the habit of doing what was best for himself, so maybe it was Albus’s job to encourage him to look at other people, other relationships… even if it meant pushing the younger man away from him so he would discover that need for himself. 

It was all so confusing! What he did do, what he could do, what he should do… and then there was what he wanted to do, which was to run back to the lounge and beg Severus to forgive him for being an old fool. After he put an ugly curse on Brutus the Epitome of Sex Appeal. Albus paced another few steps, then cursed himself. He really was an old fool! If that was what he wanted to do, then that is what he should do. 

Shaking his head, Albus quickly shed the robe he’d changed into, slipping his muggle trousers and sweater back on. He wrapped a leather tie around his beard in the manner that Severus said he found dashing, and ventured out, determined to find and, if necessary, win back his true love. 

+++

Unfortunately, finding Severus turned out to be a bit of a challenge. Albus returned to the lounge, but both the Norse God and the Potions master were missing. He turned to the bartender immediately, not wanting to waste any time. 

“Yeah, yeah. Blond one put the moves on the dark one, finally, and the dark one bolted. He just up and nearly ran out of the room. This pretty little lady sat down as soon as he was gone, and the blond one left with her about an hour later.”

“And where did the dark haired man go?” 

The bartender shrugged. “Can’t say. Once you walk out those doors, I can’t see you no more.”

Albus gave him his thanks and sped away. His mind was racing. Severus wasn’t in the lounge, and he didn’t come back to his room. Where would he have gone? He didn’t enjoy the water, so he wouldn’t be in the hot-tub. Surviving Voldemort’s latest escapades kept Severus in better shape than any workout routine, so he wouldn’t have gone to the exercise room. And he obviously wasn’t in Blond Boy’s room. That left the diner, the casino, or… any number of places that a discreet wizard could apparate to. Damn. Albus surreptitiously scanned for any lingering magic, but didn’t detect any; however, with a wizard of Severus’s skill, there wouldn’t have been anything to detect even if he’d only apparated away a second ago. Disheartened, Albus turned toward the diner.

Twenty minutes later, after having checked every public place possible, as well as quizzing several staff members and even having his lover paged once, Albus was no further along than he had been – except that now he was worried. He trudged back to his room, trying not to let the dread he felt grow into full blown panic. Once he was safely ensconced in privacy, he pulled out his wand and considered it. If Severus was anywhere near the chalet still, a location spell would show it. However, the spell was somewhat intrusive, as it involved touching Severus’s mind, and Severus had made it quite clear that mind spells were strictly off limits, no matter what the reason. 

Albus gave himself ten minutes to sit and reflect on the matter. Ten minutes later Severus had not appeared. He sighed, and made up his mind, and cast the spell. “Where are you?” he asked, searching along the magic feelers he’d cast out. 

+++

Severus wandered through the snowy night, rather enjoying the crisp air. It certainly helped clear his head, and gave him fresh perspective on the night he’d had thus far. Albus was jealous, he’d realized about five minutes after leaving the chalet, and that’s why he’d stalked off in such a snit. The idea surprised him; even after all these years, Severus could hardly believe he was loved, let alone worth getting jealous over. Still, it hadn’t escaped his notice that of all the people he could have chosen, Brutus had selected him to sit beside – although he could have simply wished to be by the fire… Severus shook his head, smiling softly. Brutus didn’t matter. What mattered is that he’d figured Albus out – and now he just had to decide what to about it. 

He was halfway through his third fantasy, tying Albus to the four-posted bed in his mind, when he heard the noise behind him. Belatedly, he realized that the crunching echo of footsteps in snow had been dogging him for a few minutes, just outside his conscious awareness, but now it was too late. Even as he whirled around, fumbling to pull his wand out of the bulky ski jacket, the creature was upon him, leaping up with catlike grace, fangs bared.

“All alone, little wizard?” it hissed, using its weight to knock Severus to the ground. He struggled against the wiry body, trying to keep it from sinking its teeth into his throat. “Didn’t expect us, did he, love?”

“I figured it was too cold for vampires,” he grunted, rolling out from beneath the other body and scrambling to retrieve his wand from where it had fallen when the attack had started. 

“Ah, but we’re dead, aren’t we? Can’t feel it, can we, love?” The vampire was grinning, its bloodless lips stretched across its pale face, as it stalked its prey. “No, no, don’t need that.” With surprising speed, it leapt up at Severus again, once more knocking the wand from his hand. This time it went flying into the nearby brush, and out of sight. The vampire laughed, a wheezy little sound like a hundred souls suddenly drawing their last breath, and attacked once more. Its undead strength was easily more than Severus had, despite the man’s leanness and skill at survival, and Severus found himself losing the fight to keep those dreaded teeth away from him. His strength was beginning to ebb in the cold, his muscles tight and clumsy. The vampire’s head sunk towards his shoulder.

Just at that moment he felt a small prick in the back of his mind. Albus’s voice seemed to call out for him, worried. “Albus!” he screamed, redoubling his efforts against the creature that had him pinned down. “Albus, I need your help!”

+++

He had expected Severus to push him soundly out, or, if he were feeling more charitable, to kindly tell him exactly where to go once he’d removed himself from the Potions master’s mind, so Albus was quite surprised when his gentle probing yielded such a violent response. “Albus! Albus, I need your help!” In a flash, their minds connected, Albus saw through Severus’s eyes as a dark creature bent toward him – vampire, biting, outside – the old man sprung into action, leaping to his feet as if he were the Norse God off to save his love.

Once he got outside, it was easy enough to locate the patch of dark magic that the vampire represented, and Albus hurried over the snow covered hill to the place where Severus was fighting for his life. As he rounded the corner and came upon them, he saw to his horror that Severus was limp; he’d lost. Blood was trickling down his face from a wound to his head that had rendered him unconscious. And the vampire… the evil creature was just settling down to feast.

A fury overtook him, and Albus tore his wand from his pocket. “Begone!” he roared, casting the brightness of the sun in its direction. The vampire looked up at the light hurling toward it and squealed, trying to run for the trees. The sunbeam caught it before it could reach them, and with a horrible cry and a loud crackling noise, it was consumed. Albus stood over its remains, panting, his face a mask of rage. Then, with a little cry of his own, he whirled around on his feet and fell to his knees beside his love. “Severus,” he whispered. “Severus, wake up.” He shook his lover gently. “Please, love, wake up.”

For a long moment there was no sound but Albus’ breathing and the wind in the bushes nearby. He feared he was too late – the vampire had already done its work, and Severus was lost. Then the younger man moaned. “Albus,” he whispered. “Did it bite me?” Dark eyes fluttered open, confused and pained. 

“No, love, no. It didn’t. I would never let… never let something like that happen to you.” A lump in his throat made it impossible for Albus to continue speaking. Instead, he pulled the other man to him and held him tightly. “I’m sorry,” he nearly sobbed. “I was so rude in the lounge. I made assumptions. I shouldn’t have. Forgive me.”

Severus laughed. “It was flattering, actually,” he replied. “Besides, I’ve had some time to think about it, and I think I’ve come up with a suitable punishment.” He sat up fully, and then leaned over and whispered in Albus’s ear. The other man smiled, then blushed, and finally grinned lewdly at the suggestion.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” he replied, standing. “Let’s go.” Offering his hand, he helped Severus to his feet. The younger man retrieved his wand and they headed back to the chalet.

“Thank you for coming,” Severus said after a moment of peaceful silence. “I was worried that the vampire really had me.”

“Ah, it didn’t have a chance,” Albus replied, hugging his lover a little tighter. They walked quietly for a little ways longer, and then the older man spoke up again. “I thought that Brutus the Norse God had you, to be honest,” he admitted. 

Severus snorted. “Well,” he replied after a moment. “He did have a chance.”

Albus stopped in his tracks and looked up at the tall, thin man. “He did?” he asked, nervousness and jealousy warring within him. 

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Why, yes, Albus. I would say he had a chance equivalent to that of a snowball… in hell.” And then he laughed, freely and merrily, as he pulled his lover back to him and steered him toward the door. “You have much to atone for, Albus,” he whispered, his hand trailing down Albus’ back to cup his ass, “And I’m very demanding.” They entered the chalet, letting the warmth fill their bodies, as the doors swung closed on the night.


End file.
